


Heartlines

by ChelsaOfBakerStreet



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelsaOfBakerStreet/pseuds/ChelsaOfBakerStreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles Xavier is a twenty-two year old telepath with the letter 'E' on his hand. Erik Lehnsherr has lost one letter and received another. He doesn't expect to find his soulmate while hunting down the creator of his certain brand of Frankenstein Monster. Mostly follows the First Class storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my darling beta MarvelGirl1021 on ff.net for all her help on this and for setting me straight.

_The legend of the heartline says that the palm of your hand holds the secret of the soulmate, a letter carved into the hand by the lines running from wrist to fingers shaping the future of every person._

* * *

There are two things that set Charles Francis Xavier apart from every other person on the planet. The first is that he is a telepath, able to read minds and bend a person's reality. The second detail that sets him apart is the sky blue 'E' that resides on his palm. Charles had been born with the letter imprinted upon him, much like the vibrant, yellow 'H' that Raven had on hers.

As a child, Charles remembers showing his friends the letter, all of them comparing colours and fonts, when everything was simple and they didn't have to worry about their letters fading. Now that Charles is twenty-two, he wonders if his letter will fade before he meets the person meant for him; a blue 'C' etched on their hand, waiting for Charles as Charles waits for them.

* * *

At his age, a mere twenty-two years old, Charles needn't worry about his letter fading, but it was something he had been afraid of since he was a teenager.

Charles remembered the horror of that day in high school when Susan Baker had glanced down at her hand and noticed the colour seeping from her letter until it became a faint scar on her palm. Charles also vividly recalled the talk their class had gone through afterward, when they all learned that this wasn't permanent, that their soul mate could be lost to them long before they ever met.

Charles knew a fraction of information about the fading before that, when his mother had married Kurt after his father's death. The purple had faded from her hand and Charles had run his fingers across the scar in a moment of vulnerability from his mother. He had asked about it, and after a moment of composed silence she had explained to him that when you lost your soulmate, your letter faded.

After that it was all Charles could focus on in his free time. What would he do if his mysterious 'E' faded away into nothing?

* * *

Charles stepped out of the Sheldonian Theatre at Oxford University, having just finished his dissertation presentation and receiving his doctorate in genetic engineering. At twenty-two he was the youngest student ever to receive a doctorate from the university and it was an accomplishment he was extremely proud of. He allowed Raven to pull him towards their favourite pub, the Black Lion, where all of his friends and colleagues were waiting on him in order to celebrate. It was then that he felt a sharp stab of anger course through him, setting the blood in his veins on fire, his vision going blurry as his palm burned. Charles gasped, stopping for a moment to rub furiously at his hand where a spark had seemed to burn right into the 'E' written there.

"Christ Charles, are you alright?" Raven exclaimed, putting her arm around him.

"Fine. Fine," he replied, idly pressing his fingers into his palm where a dull throb still remained.

* * *

Half a world away, Erik Lehnsherr was exacting out his revenge. He hadn't quite made it to Shaw yet, but he knew he was closer than ever before. He was currently in Argentina, sipping at a glass of Bitburger while watching the two men across the room.  _Germans,_ he thought to himself, assessing the weapons each man held. One had a dagger, the other a small hand pistol. Erik grinned, a dangerous smirk settling over his mouth as he advanced on the unsuspecting men, holding his glass. "Bitburger, ja?"

The one with the dagger smiled as Erik sat down. "Ja, sprechen sie Deutsch?"

"Ja, but only because they took everything from my grandparents." Erik's eyes narrowed into slits and the men realised the danger they were in. This was what Erik loved the most, the feel of both his body and power poised and coiled tight as a cobra about to strike its enemy.

The man with the gun rose first, followed quickly by the one with the dagger, Erik pulled the dagger away; hitting the gunman in the chest before he ever knew what was happening. He drew the dagger from the new corpse's chest before it could hit the floor, growling out, "Where the fuck is Shaw?", as red-hot anger coursed through him.

"I-I-I, Florida, he's in Florida!" The man shouted, his eyes pleading with Erik to spare his life.

Erik smiled before running the blade through the man's chest. "Thank you friend."

* * *

"Apparently it means that you're getting closer to meeting your soul mate," Raven shared from the couch, her nose stuck in her laptop as Charles finished looking through another book.

Charles sighed, running a hand absentmindedly through his curls. "Then why didn't a single one of these books mention it?"

"According to legend," Raven quipped, making air quotes with her fingers, "it's exceedingly rare. Ostensibly it means that you're gifted, which comes as no surprise. In other words, you share a more profound bond with your soulmate."

Charles scrubbed at his face with the heels of his hands. "What if I'm horribly disappointed in him, or worse yet, what if he takes one look at me and thinks, 'Dear God what did I do to deserve this?' What if he's human, how do I explain to him that I can read minds?"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, breathe, in and out, good boy. First of all, how could anyone ever look at you and think 'ugh who wants this guy?' because trust me Charles, you're a keeper. Secondly, fate isn't going to give you a profoundly bonded soulmate that looks like Fabio fell into a blender."

"How reassuring Raven, thank you ever so much."

Raven laughed, sticking her tongue out at Charles. "Stop worrying; you don't know when you'll meet him. Plus, you'll probably be blinded by love or whatever."

Charles smiled, making his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on. "For you I will try to not freak out as you like to put it."

"No one wants a soulmate with neurosis," Raven supplied helpfully from the couch.

* * *

Erik had the most incongruous fit of giggles. Sitting on his bed and reading the newspaper was by no stretch of the imagination a reason to break out in giggles. It didn't help that the faint blue 'C' that had popped up over the faded line of the 'M' that used to sit there was itching, though no amount of scratching made it cease.

Erik traced the lines with a finger, memories of what seemed like a life far away ran through his mind, happy, smiling Magda, the woman he had loved. He wondered what this 'C' held in store for him. Would she be a Charlotte, or Christie, or Caroline?  _Or Charles_ his mind whispered to him for the umpteenth time, and Erik tried to ignore it. Those types of relationships were often frowned upon, even in a society that was opening itself up to it ever so slightly. Erik, he didn't mind, had known for a while now that he could easily play for both teams, but for him to have a male soulmate? That would open too many wounds Erik wasn't sure he was ready to face.

* * *

Charles sat laughing with a few friends, eyes shining in mirth. "That wasn't all," he continued the story he had been telling, "then she asked me for my number and I had to come up with some excuse as to why I couldn't give it to her."

"AKA he used me as usual to play the part of the angry girlfriend storming over to pull him away," Raven cut in, laughing hard.

Charles smiled, before a wave of sadness hit him like a punch to the gut. He barely kept from crying out, pressure increasing over what he now referred to as the accursed mark. He saw Raven's eyes flicker to him as his laughter cut off abruptly and he excused himself, scurrying into the bathroom.

He glanced into the mirror over the sink, his haggard appearance betraying the hours spent studying any book he could get his hands on to try and figure out why he was being plagued by his heartline mark so.

He was happy for once, surrounded by friends, and he tried to push thoughts of the person tethered to him by a simple letter away. Charles deserved to be happy, and he'd be damned if he was going to let these random bursts of emotion bother him.

* * *

Two months later:

If someone had told Charles a year ago that he'd be living at a secret FBI base he would have laughed them all the way back to Westchester. Now though, it isn't all that funny. The drab room they had appointed to him afforded no luxuries and he often found himself in want of his four-poster bed back home. Charles hardly ever thought about his life growing up, mainly focusing on the memories made after that night he found Raven rummaging through the refrigerator.

But here he was, assigned to a top-secret section of the FBI that had been predesigned for a purpose as specific as using mutants to catch a dangerous rogue. Charles didn't mind, in a way he was using his power for good, something he had yearned for whilst researching for his dissertation. In fact, it was tonight that Charles was supposed to be helping a team of Navy Seals and a special ops FBI team find and capture Sebastian Shaw.

In Charles's opinion, Shaw was the most dangerous person he would ever face. He wasn't sure of the extent of Shaw's power, only knowing that it was enough to warrant the attention of Moira Mac Taggert, a federal agent that had come to Charles for help due to his unsurpassed study in genetics.

As of the moment, Charles was on a boat headed towards Key Largo, using his telepathic powers to search for a sign of Shaw, anything that could lead them to the Caspartina. They had chosen a sea over air attack, hoping to surprise Shaw. As Charles reached out, he could suddenly feel an overwhelming amount of power surrounding the mind he was latching onto.

"I've located Shaw," Charles gasped as an icy chill cut through his mind. "There's someone trying to block me, there must be another telepath!"

* * *

Erik silently boarded the luxury yacht, the metal of the boat screaming out to him with every step he took. He did a quick assessment, feeling for the knives on his hip, ankle, and elbow. All were there so Erik continued down the deck, rounding the corner to see a woman of diamond and a man of red skin and tail. "There's another telepath," the woman said to the yacht's other occupant, Shaw.

As Erik lunged forward, using his power to pull the knife on his hip from its sheath, he found himself crippled by a screeching, burning noise in his mind.

As he gasped for air after the noise stopped, effectively, Erik heard Shaw turning towards him.

"Why if it isn't little Erik Lehnsherr," Shaw grinned holding his arms out as if to embrace an old friend.

"He means to kill you," said the woman, her eyes narrowing.

Before Erik could think twice, the unnamed man aboard the vessel had grabbed Erik around the waist and disappeared, materialising above the water and dropping him into the water below.

* * *

The Seal team launched out, bright lights flaring across the choppy water as a voice yelled over the loudspeaker that the vessel was under arrest and that no movement should be made. Instead of following the direct order of the Captain, it seemed as if the yacht began to sink of its own accord.

Charles felt a tugging in his gut, pulling him to the bow of the ship. "There's someone else out there," he cried as he realised it, feeling anger and hatred clouding the judgment of whoever was in the water.

Charles tried to reach out to him telepathically but his power was too weak from this distance, especially to a subject as unresponsive as the man in the water who was going to drown himself if he didn't stop his impossible mission.

Charles shed his jacket as he raced across the deck, kicking off his shoes as he reached the railing, launching himself over before Moira could stop him. He dove for the man, using his power to find him easily.  _You have to let this go my friend; this is not your battle, not today._

Charles wrapped his arms around the man's waist and grabbed his hand. Then everything went black.

* * *

Erik knew he had to stop Shaw and as the submarine was released from the bottom of the yacht, Erik used every ounce of hatred he had to try and drag it down with him. A voice broke into his thoughts, a voice as opposite of him as could be, young, and lush, dripping with posh, having the audacity to tell him to let it go. Erik  _would not_ let it go, this was his destiny. Suddenly Erik felt a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his waist and he struggled to get back to the task at hand but that damnable voice broke into his thoughts and as he grappled for the person's hand, Erik's world went dark.


	2. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go. Thanks everyone for the comments and bookmarks! I'm working on chapter three, and hopefully next chapter I'll have a reading playlist for you that I am currently working on. Enjoy!

Erik woke, blinking up at a bright white ceiling, confused as to where he was and how he got there. He heard the beeping of what he assumed was a heart monitor as he felt around with his power for any sort of weapons. Upon finding no hidden knives or guns, he opened his eyes fully to take in his surroundings.

Erik saw bleak white walls and a small window, completely unbarred, much to his surprise. He sat up enough to notice another occupant in the room. Unarmed and still out like a light, whatever had hit Erik must have hit this guy too. Erik noticed that the other person had a brain wave monitor as well and Erik wondered if the man was a mutant as well.

Erik closed his eyes, trying to recall what had happened. He had been in the water, trying to pull up Shaw's submarine when a voice, a soft, sweet, Oxford voice had entered his mind, telling him to let go. There had been a small struggle and then Erik had woken here on this bed.

He reopened his eyes at the sound of the door being pushed open and managed to glance past it. He was intrigued by the fact that he was not in a hospital, but some type of office building. His attention shifted to the two women entering, both of them making their way to the other occupant's bedside.

Two men followed after, one dressed in a black suit and the other in a lab coat. They made their way to Erik's bedside, and he noted that neither man was armed.

"I'm Hank," the skinny one in the lab coat supplied. "This is Fred," Hank spoke, pointing at the man in the suit. How are you feeling?"

Erik remained quiet, not sure how to properly explain it. "I feel fine, but like something is missing."  _Or disappointed because you let Shaw get away,_ his conscious readily supplied.

"It seems you and Charles both had a nasty shock in the water," Hank explained, checking over Erik's vitals.

Erik rubbed his hand absentmindedly, until the words Hank had murmured fully sank in. "Who did you say?"

Hank stopped the motion of rubbing his forehead and glanced at Erik curiously. "Charles?"

Erik squeezed his eyes shut, groaning.

"Are you in pain?" Hank asked worriedly, rushing to Erik's bedside.

Erik felt as if he'd just gone through a university hazing. His head was swimming and he began to perspire, his breathing and heart rate speeding up. "I- no, not in pain. Just a bit, woozy that's all."

 _Of all the fucking names in the world_ Erik thought wryly.

* * *

Charles's mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton and his eyelashes were stuck together as he tried to open them.

"How are you feeling?" a voice asked from far away and Charles pried his eyes open enough to see Moira and Raven.

"'m fine. 's'all fine. Who dat?" Charles couldn't find it in himself to quite form proper sentences and instead focused his energy on making grabby hands at the cup of water Raven was holding.

"How articulate Charles, if only you'd read your dissertation in such a manner, I might not have fallen asleep." Raven levelled a smile at a now glaring Charles and relinquished her grip on the Styrofoam cup so that Charles could greedily gulp the water down. "And that dear Charles is Erik."

Charles looked up at his sister. "I-what?"

Raven stared at Charles for a moment, trying to register what was making him so concerned. She glanced over at the room's other occupant as the puzzle pieces fell into place. "Charles, just look at your hand."

"I don't want to."

Raven fixed Charles with a stare. "Turn your hand over."

Charles shut his eyes tightly as he turned his hand over in his lap, fingers curled into his palm. He opened his eyes slowly, unfurling his fingers to reveal a brightly glowing 'E'.

"It is him," Raven whispered, looking between Charles and Erik. "He- it's- you're soulmates."

"No, it has to be wrong. There's no way it's him." Charles stared across the room at the brunet who was pointedly ignoring the rest of the occupants in the room. Charles flopped back onto the pillows, a huff of air escaping his lungs. "I'm doomed."

* * *

Erik really wanted these people to leave him alone. A nurse and doctor had crowded into the room, taking vitals, reading charts, and overall flitting around the people muttering to themselves. He had a headache and his power was weak, two things that were turning his mood sour.

Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that the posh china doll in the bed next to him was apparently his sodding soulmate. Erik wasn't sure this day could get much worse. He traced the letter on his palm for what had to be the four hundredth time. He didn't get it. He wasn't gay, had never liked men, yet here he was with a guy for a soulmate. The universe had to be playing some sick sort of trick on him. He didn't even know how to, well, he wasn't going to even think about that lest he have a panic attack in…wherever the hell he was.

Maybe he and this Charles would never get to that point, just grow to love and cherish one another and that would be it, Erik needn't worry about all of that other technical stuff. He'd known that to happen to other couples, never intimate, but they still cared for one another.

Erik could hear the hushed whispers and feel the stares from the others and knew that Charles must have realised his hand was glowing as well. Bugger it all. He could hear the shuffling of footsteps and hoped everyone thought he was asleep as they exited the room, leaving silence in their wake.

He heard Charles clear his throat and braced himself for the inevitable conversation to follow. "So, Erik is it?"

Well, it was a start. "Yes, and you're Charles?"

"I am. I wanted to let you know that what you were doing out there, that was exceptionally brave of you."

Erik felt himself fill with cold dread. Shaw. In the aftermath of the concussion…thing and finding out he currently had a male soulmate, Erik had forgotten all about his search for Shaw.

"I- thanks. You shouldn't have come in after me, I had it under control."

Charles snorted and Erik heard the bed creak as Charles sat up to see him better. "You were almost drowning by the time I got to you. You had about as much control over that submarine as I do over the weather."

Erik pondered Charles's words for a moment. "Well, what is your power?"

"Telepathy. I can read minds and have the ability to alter people's realities around them."

Erik had to give it to him; it was a pretty sweet mutation.

"You're a metal-bender?"

The question threw Erik off-guard. He hadn't heard his power described in such terms since he had been a young boy standing in front of Klaus Schmidt. "Yeah." To demonstrate Erik pushed Charles's IV rig across the floor and then back.

Charles followed it with his eyes, muttering a quiet 'neat'.

Erik figured it was time to talk about the elephant sitting front and centre in the room. "We're soulmates."

Charles cleared his throat. "Yeah, seems so. Sorry if I'm not what you expected."

Erik laughed wryly. "Kind of hard to envision someone when there's billions of people on the planet."

"Yeah, but a guy like you most definitely didn't have a pudgy Professor straight out of grad school in mind."

"You're a Professor?" Erik was stunned; he wouldn't have put the kid much older than twenty.

Charles smiled. "Yeah, I'm a bit of a genius; don't usually lead with that though. Be kind of ironic though. Hullo, Charles Xavier, twenty-three, genius Professor."

That actually pulled a laugh from Erik. "Seems a little pompous if you ask me."

"Just a bit," Charles giggled.  _This might just work out eventually; he's definitely not bad in the looks department, a little rugged, a lot mysterious._

"So Charles, other than sticking your nose in books, what do you like to do?" Erik knew they'd have to get to know one another; soulmates were unable to spend little time alone in the first couple weeks of bonding, and Erik wanted to make sure there was some sort of hope for them. He had to guard himself if it was going to be messy, he'd had that once before, the feeling of your soul being shredded into small pieces and he didn't want to invest himself in Charles only to be torn apart again.

"I like to cook, anything really, but I make a fantastic Beef Wellington."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Cook for the Queen often?"

Charles scoffed at him. "What about you then? What hobbies do you have other than trying to get yourself killed?"

"I like reading  _Professor_. I like watching movies, I like painting." Erik clamped his mouth shut with the last admission. No one since Magda had ever seen anything Erik had even pencilled on a napkin, mainly because Erik had barely drawn anything. His art was something he held close to his chest and he wasn't about to try and explain himself to this guy, whether Charles was his soulmate or not.

Charles's mind was whirling. He'd heard the abrupt cut-off in Erik's voice and knew he was in danger of having Erik shut down. He scrambled to find something as vulnerable for him to share. "I dance," Charles said very quietly. "At least, I used to before …" he trailed off, not ready to share the rest of the story, not yet.

Erik knew when to not press someone and this was one of those moments. Charles had read the vulnerability in his voice and had opened himself up to Erik to even the playing ground. Erik felt as if they were playing a game of chess with pieces of fire and ice and he sincerely hoped neither of them was going to get burned.

Further conversation was broken off by the return of the doctor who wanted to take readings of brain activity and test their powers separately. Erik was glad for the reprieve, knowing that once the doctor realised the full picture of what he was dealing with that Erik and Charles would be moved to a private wing where they would have to be monitored together. Doctors tended to overreact about things that happened during the bonding process. Erik just wanted to go home and the irritated look Charles was shooting his nurse told Erik the feelings were mutual.

It was going to be a long week.

* * *

Erik had been given clothing until he could return to the ones he had left in his last hotel room. A pair of slacks clung tightly to his hips and he smoothed the front of the polo shirt down as he was led through a myriad of cubicles by Fred and the doctor assigned to his care. Fred kept a low voice as he talked to Erik. "Charles was helping us search for Shaw, us of course being the FBI. One of our agents had seen Shaw conversing with Colonel Henry and we were trying to find out what we could. That's why we brought you here. It's like my own private little Area 51." Fred chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "We couldn't let you or Charles fall into the hands of a too-inquisitive doctor, so I brought in two men I trust with my own life."

Erik listened as they walked, his brown loafers making muted scuffling on the tile. He relaxed as he realised that Fred had a gun, three rounds in it, another cartridge in his pocket, but that was normal now that he understood where he was. The doctor remained unarmed much to Erik's relief and he stuck his hands in his pockets as they continued their journey.

"We merely want to make sure your power wasn't diminished by what happened in the water so I had Hank set up a few things to test you with," Fred continued, opening a door to the side.

Erik felt his hackles rise slightly as they walked into the room, a table laid out for him, items spread out in varying size and weight. For a moment Erik was transported back to the room in Germany, standing in front of a desk, a simple coin between his mother's life and death. Erik shut his eyes, channelling the hatred into his core, readying himself for the task ahead.

"We just need you to show that your power is strong, Charles said he expected that you could easily lift anything, so he thought we could start small and work our way up as a way to check your mutation."

Erik nodded, wondering what all Charles had said to them, hell had they guy read his mind? He'd have to have a talk with the telepath.

Erik raised his hands, focusing on the anger that made his power shine, feeling for the first object, a small button and lifted it easily, grinning. The next was a nail, then a cash box, barbell, and crowbar. None of the items even came close to making him concentrate. Simple child's play. The doctor marked off each item, hiding a smile as Erik twirled a bicycle in the air.

The car was harder. Erik was having a hard time concentrating on being angry when he suddenly was focusing on Charles blue eyes, bright and clear in his mind. He shut them, blinking away the image as he turned his palms upwards to lift the car higher. It came down with a bang as Erik's concentration was lost because of a sharp gasp let out in unison from the men watching him.

Erik's eyes snapped open as the doctor grabbed his hand, inspecting it closely. "You've recently found your soulmate and yet you're still standing without being near them. How?"

Erik grimaced; mad he had done such a foolish thing as upturning his palms. He knew they would have found out sooner or later, when the bond set in and Erik wouldn't be able to leave Charles' side and vice versa, but this was sooner than expected.

Fred took Erik's hand, running his eyes over the blue letter. "It's because he's still near his soulmate. That's why they both passed out. It's him and Charles."

Erik grit his teeth, steeling himself for the inevitable disgust.

* * *

Charles was revelling in the warmth of his sweater as he followed Hank down a hallway. "You said you've been working on a program for telepaths?"

Hank grinned. "Yeah, it's not finished yet; maybe I can get you to try it out when I put the finishing touches on it."

Charles needn't read the guy's mind to know how excited he was about the project, and knowing that Hank was brilliant made Charles want to help him out. "That would be wonderful; I'd love to help out."

Hank thanked him as he pushed open another door, leading Charles into a room where a chair was set up, a few dozen machines beeping steadily. Charles searched out for Erik, popping in his head long enough to see that he was being tested on his strength before coming back to Hank. "What's all this?"

Different machines I've designed. Just to check brain patterns and that type of thing in mutants with any type of telepathic abilities."

Charles nodded, sitting down. "Just, don't touch my hair, alright?"

Hank grinned. "I like you Charles, you're a good guy." Hank moved from machine to machine, turning dials, typing in commands and pulling them closer to Charles to set them up. He attaches probes to Charles's forehead, a heart monitor to his chest and assorted patches and wires to Charles and himself. "In order for this to work, you'll have to go in my mind as well, just to make sure you can still get past mental walls."

"I understand," Charles answered automatically, his thoughts drifting off to Erik, wondering what mental walls Erik had. Charles himself had enough secrets buried to fill an entire closet with skeletons, but if they were going to work, he was going to have to open Erik up, get him to trust him.

"Palms up please," Hank asked kindly and Charles complied, his eyes drawn to the E on his hand that still glowed brightly and he heard Hank gasp. "You and…" he trailed off, eyes wide in disbelief.

"It appears so," Charles laughed jovially.

"They're going to room you together now."

"Ah yes, wouldn't want the bonding process to be messed up," Charles frowned. He hadn't really given the bonding process much thought. There were far fewer same-sex soulmates and many of them were ridiculed, making the bonding process an important one. Charles knew that the bonding period would show whether a couple would be not only emotionally, but also physically involved, whether their personalities would be cohesive, whether there was a chance for them at all. Though Charles had never been religious he suddenly considered praying. Un-bonded soulmates were the loneliest people in the world. They often did not get another chance to bond, especially if the bonding process has been normal and easy, only rejected by one or both. He couldn't do that; he couldn't walk around the world without someone by his side.

For the first time in a long time, Charles Xavier was afraid.


	3. Roommates

Just as Erik had presumed, he and Charles were immediately relocated to an unused part of the facility and given a room together. He had protested indignantly against a single bed and was glad when two full-sized beds were brought in to placate him. He had felt a small twinge of guilt to see that Charles had looked slightly downtrodden at his insistence to remain separate, but Erik knew he wasn't ready, wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready. It wasn't that Charles was male, but that Erik had been hurt before, by so many people that he couldn't bear to think about Charles rejecting him as well.

He'd just finished moving the few clothes he had from his suitcase to the drawer when Charles spoke, breaking him from his reverie. "I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable."

Erik sighed quietly, feeling guiltier by the second for being as brash as he had been so far, but he couldn't help it, that's the way he was, that's why his last relationship hadn't worked out. Erik liked running. Running away from his feelings, running away from fights, running away from people he cared about most. Erik ran a hand through his hair, turning towards Charles. "It's not you," he started quietly, watching Charles start to close himself off. "It's me, it's this. I-I wasn't bloody expecting to find you in the middle of the damned ocean! I should be going after Shaw!"

Charles watched as Erik struggled for words and he knew he wasn't the only one battling with this. Charles had trepidations about whether he and Erik were compatible; so far they seemed to be on the opposite ends of the spectrum. "Erik, we will get Shaw, I swear it. We have the CIA helping us."

Erik deflated slightly, dropping his suitcase on the floor as he flopped gracelessly on the bed. "I know you're right Charles, it's just that I've been doing this for so long by myself."

Charles gave Erik the slightest hint of a smile, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly as he sat on his bed, toeing off his shoes. "Well Erik, you're not alone anymore."

Erik looked over at Charles, a smile gracing his own lips. "You do have a point Charles."

Charles nodded, peeling off his socks before stepping into a pair of bedroom slippers. "I'm going to take a shower."

Erik mumbled something that sounded like an okay as Charles gathered his things and slipped into the en suite bathroom.

* * *

Charles closed his eyes, hoping somehow he was in a nightmare, that this wasn't his life. Perhaps he should start his will now, leave concise instructions as to his burial and the house and funds to Raven.

Or perhaps he was overreacting. Erik had been given quite a nasty shock, and they had both woken to find out they were soulmates. It wasn't just that, Charles could see that much. Charles himself had secrets, things he had buried so deeply that it would take a lot of soul searching to even begin to dredge them up. Charles understood the need to hide and in that moment, staring into the mirror, he resolved to slowly peel away the layers to Erik's heart.

Erik lay back on the bed, running a coin between his fingers, sighing softly, being lulled by the soft patter of the water in the shower. He knew he was hiding behind the anger of losing Shaw, but deep down, he was terribly afraid. He knew Charles could never want him, not now not ever, and Erik was resolved to know a life of pain until he died. His bond would be broken and then he could move away from Charles who would resent him until the day Erik died. This, in all possibility might not be that far away. Erik might die while fighting Shaw, releasing Charles from the bond and perhaps Charles would move on. Erik knew Charles wouldn't be happy, not unless he received another letter, which was next to impossible, making Erik even angrier that he had been bonded to this poor bloke who didn't deserve the baggage Erik brought with him.

Erik sighed, placing the coin back down on the table next to his bed and closed his eyes. He didn't feel like arguing with Charles anymore, he just wanted to sleep.

* * *

By the time Charles got out of the shower he walked into the bedroom to find Erik fast asleep. He smiled softly at how unguarded and soft Erik's face was when he wasn't trying to hide his emotions. Charles silently climbed into his bed, throwing a final perfunctory glance at Erik before burrowing into the covers.

He awoke a few hours later to a peculiar scraping sound and the feel of his bed vibrating. He laid still, eyes shut and fingers digging into the duvet when he heard a sharp whimper to his immediate left. His eyes popped open and he rolled to see Erik deep in sleep, mouthing something he couldn't make out, Erik's fingers stretched out towards Charles. Charles understood suddenly that Erik was pulling at the metal of his bed unconsciously, bringing him closer without knowing it.

Charles was stuck between waking Erik and letting the man sleep through whatever nightmare he was fighting against. Before he could reconcile with one side of his thoughts or the other, Erik whimpered, his hand dropping towards the floor and he stilled completely, terrifying Charles for one short moment that Erik had died of all things before letting out a ridiculously content snore.

"Of all the bloody things," Charles said to himself, lying back down as his eyes closed. He let his mind drift slowly into blank darkness, pulling him underneath into sleep.

* * *

Erik woke, yawning, to the soft snore of Charles in the bed next to him. Erik propped his head up on his arm and watched the golden streams of sunlight break the darkness of the room, landing on the exposed skin of Charles's face and shoulder. Erik took a moment to marvel at how childlike Charles became in his sleep, his face opening itself up, the creases around his mouth and eyes smoothing themselves out as Charles slumbered on.

Erik stretched languidly before he pulled himself out of bed to shower. He had always been an early riser, creature of habit his mum told him when he'd be up before she even was, working on chores. Erik turned the water on in the shower and leaned against the counter, thinking back to one particular morning. It had been a good morning, Erik had been out to collect eggs from the hens in the small shelter he had built two summers ago and had collected the laundry from where it had been hanging. His mother walked in to find him folding bed sheets and had smiled softly, plucking them from his hand. "You start breakfast and I'll finish this," she had smile sleepily as Erik stood from the chair. "Ja, mother," he had responded, searching for a bowl to beat the eggs in.

Erik sighed, pressing himself away from the counter, stepping into the shower. There was no reason that morning should particularly stick out in his mind, but it did and it brought a smile to Erik's face every time he thought about it.

Erik soaped up, scrubbing his hands through his hair as he tried to piece together how to work things out with Charles. He'd found himself already trying to push Charles away, a defence mechanism Erik had employed since the day his mother passed away. Erik wasn't good with relationships, never would be. He had come to accept this information about himself and wished the world had never given him another soulmate, another life to ruin. Because really, he'd ruined Magda's life hadn't he? That's why she left, taking the kids with her, because Erik wasn't stable. Erik was broken, something was innately wrong with him and the universe had laughed in his face, sending him this plush, posh telepath for him to ruin and break as well.

Erik sighed as he washed off, standing under the just this side of too hot water for longer than he should, his skin reddening from the heat. Erik slowly turned the water off and stood there dripping before grabbing his towel off the counter and wrapped it around him.

* * *

If Charles had thought Erik attractive before, it was nothing compared to a wet, shirtless Erik wrapped in nothing but a towel that darted out to grab enough clothing to make him decent before fleeing to the sanctity of the bathroom once again.

"Pity," Charles said to the ceiling, "here I was thinking he had changed his mind and was going to jump me." Charles laughed at the absurdity of his own statement and chalked it up to one too many romance novels.

Erik scolded himself for forgetting his clothing as he dropped his towel to pull his pants on, glancing in the mirror. Years of training had turned him from a scrawny boy into a strong, muscled machine. There were scars dotted across his shoulders and stomach from fights and brawls in pubs and alleys, some from his years of hunting down Shaw.

Erik stepped into a pair of grey trousers and tugged on a white tank top, covering enough of the scars that he felt comfortable enough facing Charles.

He opened the door slowly and peeked out, catching Charles grinning at him from next to the closet. "I won't bite, I promise," Charles said cheerily, waving a sweater vest at Erik before pulling it over his head.

Erik grumbled something in response, huffing out a short laugh. "Has anyone ever told you that you dress like a grandfather?"

Charles sent him his best 'really, Erik?' smile and smoothed his shirt down before tucking it neatly into his trousers. "One doesn't become a professor at twenty-two by dressing like a hooligan…or secret agent in your case." Charles drank in the long lines of Erik's torso, outlined by the thin tank top as Erik pulled on yet another turtleneck.

"Secret agent, really Charles? You going to start calling me double-oh-seven now?"

Charles smiled at the witty banter flowing easily between them. "Perhaps you might prefer I call you Bond."

"Hmmm, I could decide only to refer to you by your last name, if only of course, I knew what it was."

Charles nearly stumbled over his words at the glint in Erik's eyes. "It's Xavier, Charles Xavier."

Erik huffed out a laugh. "Course you'd be named something like Xavier. Let me guess, you're middle name is something dreadful like Huffington or Yardsley?"

Charles screwed his face up in his best impression of a petulant child before drawling in the best Oxford he could manage, "sorry my fine friend but see, you've gotten it quite incorrect. The name is Charles Francis Xavier, nice to meet you." Charles couldn't help but to tip at the waist in a mock half bow that sent Erik over onto his bed wheezing with laughter.

"Charles…" he choked out between laughs, "Francis…" Charles was quite sure there were tears of mirth welling in Erik's eyes at this point, "Xavier. Of all the fucking names I've heard in my life, Charles, that one takes the fucking cake."

Charles crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the slightest bit huffy. "Yes well, that's my name, thank you very much."

"Oh Charles," Erik sighed, laughter still creeping through his features best as Erik tried to calm himself, "I didn't mean it like that."

"And how precisely then did you mean it?" Charles couldn't help but to let a bit of how certainly offended he was, show through in his tone.

"I merely meant…well okay I thought it was a humorous name."

Charles felt his mouth turn up into a soft smile, despite his attempts to remain cross with Erik. "I forgive you. But only if you tell me your name."

Erik sat up on his bed, looking solemn as he held his hand out. "Lehnsherr, Erik Lehnsherr. Shaken, not stirred."

It was Charles's turn to guffaw at the display in front of him as he gripped Erik's hand in a fake handshake. "Nice to meet you Mr Lehnsherr," he grinned.

"No but honestly," Erik continued, "my name is Erik Eisenhardt Lehnsherr."

Charles considered this information for a moment. "That's a very nice, strong name."

A brief flicker of something appeared in Erik's eyes before it was quickly extinguished and replaced by the emptiness Charles had come to consider as being synonymous with Erik. "Come on," Charles said quietly. "Let's get breakfast and then we can see what they have on Shaw."

Erik appreciated the way Charles could take an awkward situation and diffuse the tension out of it. If only Erik could do the same for Charles.


End file.
